


slow hands, this quiet ride

by lowandslow



Category: Chinese Actor RPF, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV) RPF
Genre: Behind the Scenes, Bus Sex, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Quiet Sex, Semi-Public Sex, established fooling around
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:34:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29710329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lowandslow/pseuds/lowandslow
Summary: Xiao Zhan decidesfuck it,quietly unsticks his arm from Yibo's where they sit shoulder to shoulder and begins to slide his hand in a heavy drag across Yibo's clothed thigh. They don't even make it back to their hotel before Xiao Zhan can resist sticking his hand down Yibo’s pants.
Relationships: Wang Yi Bo/Xiao Zhan | Sean
Comments: 10
Kudos: 97





	slow hands, this quiet ride

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by that one bts pic of lwj-dressed yibo and xz in a tank top, shorts, and wwx boots & wig walking towards the bus/coach at night.
> 
> The usual rpf disclaimers apply: This is fiction. I don’t know how drama sets work and I don't personally know xz or wyb. I love them both and mean no harm.
> 
> \--

The lights on the bus are dimmed for their return journey to the hotel, attempting to facilitate some sense of relaxation, and the crew is spread far enough out around the bus that they finally have some semblance of privacy. It had been another long, hot day of shooting and with it going over late into the night, Xiao Zhan feels so keyed up and irritated that his palms itch. He had hoped to be showered and in bed almost two hours ago, and it'll be at least another hour of travel and wig removal before they're back in their rooms, but at least Yibo is here with him, distracting, fun, and annoyingly affectionate as usual. The kind of behavior that had Xiao Zhan scoffing all day to hide the desperate fact that he wanted to kiss the gremlin smile right off Yibo's face but was unable to actually do anything about it. Yibo's energy seems endless compared to his own, but now, in their darkened corner, he settles into his window seat, quiet and still, as they both scroll individually on their phones. His face stretches into a yawn and Xiao Zhan bets he'll be asleep in less than five minutes if allowed. But as it always goes when things are gone, Xiao Zhan wants his attention back, along with the casual touches that sometimes make his thick robes feel like sandpaper against his skin in the hot sun, and other times calm the buzzing beneath it.

On a good day, Xiao Zhan prides himself on his impulse control, believing himself to be a level-headed, ‘think first, act later’ guy. But on another good day, he's a guaranteed risk-taker, because the heart wants what it wants and who are we to deny? Wang Yibo should have come with loud warning bells attached, because right now, Xiao Zhan decides, sneaking a glance at him, _fuck it_. Xiao Zhan quietly unsticks his arm from Yibo's where they sit shoulder to shoulder and begins to slide his hand in a heavy drag across Yibo's clothed thigh. It's a quick arrival to his intended target and he changes the angle to press his hand in a deliberate line down Yibo's dick through the material of his jersey shorts. When his fingertips catch on the ridge of the head, he begins to drag them back down, flat and unhurried, in the opposite direction. It responds immediately to the pressure, bobbing up against his touch, and the rest of Yibo reacts on a millisecond delay, his eyes widening in shock as he raises them from his phone to Xiao Zhan's seemingly nonchalant profile. Xiao Zhan doesn't look up at him, just continues to stare down at his own phone, eyes completely unfocused as one thumb makes a performative swipe upward on the screen while the other drags along Yibo’s lengthening dick. Yibo’s eyes drop down to stare dumbly at the unmistakable bulge in Xiao Zhan’s own shorts and then the static in his brain clears enough to tear his gaze away from him and face forward, ready and willing to play along. Xiao Zhan gives another slow rub upward with his palm, feeling Yibo’s dick swell in the v-shaped space between his index and middle fingers, and then back down. Yibo's grip around his phone loosens and it falls blank-screened and crooked against his leg, while his opposite hand clutches the material of his own shorts like an anchor. His lips part and quiet, ragged puffs of breath ghost across them as Xiao Zhan continues to palm at his dick, coaxing it to hardness. When he's almost fully hard and aching for more friction, Xiao Zhan lifts his hand to slide it underneath the waistband of Yibo's shorts. The fake leather material of the seat squeaks underneath Yibo's legs as they fall open a little wider and he leans his back further against the seat to make more room for Xiao Zhan's warm hand. Their knees knock together and Xiao Zhan hooks his ankle around Yibo's so they're pressed shin to calf, desperate for more ways to feel skin-on-skin in the given circumstances. Xiao Zhan's own half-hard dick jumps as his hand slides down Yibo's smooth abs and into his pubic hair without further resistance of another elastic waistband. _All fucking day._ All day he hadn't been wearing any underwear and Xiao Zhan just now finds out. Maybe it’s for the best though, because as it's going, they hadn’t even made it back to their hotel before Xiao Zhan could resist sticking his hand down Yibo’s pants, and that was _before_ this realization.Finding a way to jerk him off on set would have been trickier to navigate. 'Unprofessional' is a secondary thought, and he swallows down a nervous laugh before focusing back on the task at hand. When Xiao Zhan's sweat-damp palm makes contact with the searing hot skin of Yibo's dick, Yibo makes a quiet, punched-out, " _Ge-_ " and Xiao Zhan's heart goes from zero to sixty in more ways than one. 

"Shh," Xiao Zhan responds under his breath in a rush as he raises his eyes to see if anyone is paying attention to them. But everyone else is wrapped up in their own quiet conversations or resting their eyes, and the road noise from the wheels and wind is loud enough to drown out any other errant noise, so Xiao Zhan deems it safe enough to keep going. He lowers his gaze to his hand down Yibo's shorts, sees the obscene outline of his fingers wrapped around Yibo's huge dick and thumbs the tip of it experimentally. It jumps in his hand, straining sharp against the material, and he tears his eyes away, catching on Yibo's face on the upward swing. It's a sight, Yibo's stunned eyes, his parted, full lips, the long, beautiful lines of his jaw and throat, and Xiao Zhan thrills at being able to render him speechless like this equally as much as he enjoys hearing his voice. Someday he'll have his camera around to capture him like this, flushed pink and with his eyes blown out with open arousal, the private part of him that only he gets to truly see. He finds himself wishing they both weren't still in their wigs, that Yibo looked more like his Wang Yibo and less like Lan Wangji. 

Yibo's tongue dips out to wet his lips pink and he begins to bite at his bottom lip when Xiao Zhan forces himself to look away again before doing something even more impulsive and stupid like kiss him. Instead, he wraps his hand fully around Yibo's dick again and gives him a long, firm stroke, Yibo flushing in embarrassment when he only half-controls the buck of his hips upward into the friction. Xiao Zhan tries to find a steady rhythm while focusing intently on not moving his arm in obvious repetitive motions, so his strokes end up being drawn out and agonizingly slow while Yibo's hips respond in soft, controlled rolls into his hand. It's torturous for both of them, a completely different energy than last night's desperate mutual handjobs as they rutted against each other in the privacy of Xiao Zhan’s room, but the ease of it is astounding and Xiao Zhan marvels at how in sync they continue to be.

Yibo finds it nearly impossible to keep his eyes from straying to Xiao Zhan's face, which, in his defense, he can’t even keep his eyes off of him even during a normal day, and if he keeps his eyes hyper-focused on the bulge of Xiao Zhan's hand around his dick through his shorts instead, he'll come in 3 seconds, so he closes his eyes and concentrates on staying as silent as possible while having the most beautiful man in the world jerk him off in public. Xiao Zhan and his talented hands will probably be the death of him, so if he makes it through this alive, he honestly deserves a medal, or at least Xiao Zhan praising him for how good he is. The thought sends pleasure rippling through his entire body and he makes a desperate grab for the loose material of Xiao Zhan's shorts while swallowing a groan.

Xiao Zhan keeps his eyes trained blankly on his phone, arousal pooling in his gut as Yibo thrusts gently into his slow, firm strokes. It’s heady hearing Yibo's muted swallows of pleasure next to him, quiet enough only for his ears but discoverable by anyone at any time if they pay attention. The waves of arousal emanating from Yibo make Xiao Zhan's own dick desperate for friction in response and he shifts to adjust himself as best he can with Yibo's large hand in a vice grip on his shorts and without attracting any attention. He wonders if Yibo will be able to come with it being this slow the whole time, or if he’ll end up pleading with him to speed up and Xiao Zhan will have to shush him again. 

"Can you hand Xiao-ge the face wipes?" the voice of his make-up artist cuts suddenly through their bubble of intensity, and Yibo chokes on a startled noise of irritation and pleasure as Xiao Zhan goes dead-still mid-stroke.

Their hearts beat lightning fast against their rib cages while the package gets passed around up front. Someone else calls his name and Xiao Zhan drops his phone to lean forward to accept the wipes from his manager two rows up. His hand follows the movement of his body as he reaches, fingers grazing a firm line along the base of Yibo’s dick all the way to the tip. Yibo grips both hands on whatever purchase he can find to keep the rest of his body from responding. Xiao Zhan says, "Thanks," in a voice miraculously steadier than he feels, and then just as fast as he left, he presses back next to Yibo, wraps his hand in a circle around his dick again, and the bus returns to the base level noise from before.

Xiao Zhan, heart now lodged somewhere in his throat, tightens his grip and restarts his strokes, more insistent now with the adrenaline of possibly being caught and how even more turned on he is. Yibo fucks up into his hand, his dick impossibly hard, catches his eyes and mouths, ' _Close.'_

Xiao Zhan isn't sure if he means himself or the situation, but he mouths back the first thing that comes to mind, _'Good_.'

At that, Yibo screws his eyes back shut, brows furrowed, as his head falls against the seat in Xiao Zhan’s direction like he wants to bury his face in his shoulder, but can't quite reach. His mouth drops open with a quiet grunt of pleasure, then another, and Xiao Zhan reminds him with a soft, "I know, shh." The sympathy borders on praise and Yibo's dick throbs in Xiao Zhan's grip as he bites his lip again to silence himself as gently ordered. His hips begin to lose the rhythm once shared with Xiao Zhan's strokes and his hand unclenches and clenches again in quick succession around Xiao Zhan's shorts. Xiao Zhan is finding it more and more difficult to control his own breathing and little beads of perspiration begin to form on his steadily warming skin, but it only takes a few more slow, heavy strokes before Yibo's ab muscles tense beneath Xiao Zhan’s forearm and he comes pulsing into Xiao Zhan's hand, another soft grunt escaping between his lips that Xiao Zhan hopes if heard by anyone else could easily be mistaken for him just clearing his throat. Xiao Zhan strokes him through it and Yibo's thick jizz drips hot and wet down his knuckles. It slickens the slide of his hand and presses a darkening wet spot in the front of Yibo's shorts. He doesn’t stop until Yibo is mostly soft again and starting to jerk with sensitivity. He retracts his hand and wipes it on the towel his assistant had given him earlier for his sweat while Yibo's head lulls back against the seat in blissed-out silence. After a minute, he regains awareness from his post-orgasm haze and makes pointed eye contact with Xiao Zhan. His pupils are still blown out and his neck and chest are flushed pink above his tank top. Xiao Zhan's eyes sparkle and the corner of his mouth upturns in a sly, secret smile.

 _'What the fuck?'_ Yibo mouths, delight and shock still obvious on his glowing face. Xiao Zhan's smile widens. Yibo is so fun. It’s the most fun he’s ever had with another person in his life.

Yibo unlocks his phone, opens their wechat conversation and starts typing. Xiao Zhan’s phone buzzes from his lap a second later.

**[Zhan-ge…I'm gonna be all gross for the rest of the ride now]**

**[and I can't even kiss you]**

Xiao Zhan’s stomach swoops. He sends back **[so, you didn’t enjoy it?] __**and then watches Yibo for his reaction.

Yibo rolls his eyes immediately, then grins at him and murmurs sarcastically, “Obviously not.” He types again.

**[what about you]**

**[think I could suck your dick with no one noticing?]**

Xiao Zhan flushes prettily, his bloodless brain instantly supplying him with a free scenario involving Yibo’s head bent over his lap, the torturously slow, warm heat of his mouth, and both of them trying to be silent while Xiao Zhan fists his hands in his hair and pulls. He pushes the image out and backhands Yibo in the arm in retaliation, but Yibo is fast. He catches Xiao Zhan's hand as it retracts and stretches his arm over his lap, holding it trapped there on his opposite thigh. With Xiao Zhan's arm out of the way, Yibo's hand closest to Xiao Zhan then makes swift work of sliding down inside of his shorts, eager to return the favor. It happens so fast that Xiao Zhan hardly has time to prepare before Yibo's hand envelops his achingly hard dick and begins jerking him off in earnest. Xiao Zhan's face isn't quite as transparent as Yibo's, but a muscle in his jaw tenses and his hand squeezes Yibo’s thigh under his grasp. He glances at the front of the bus to reaffirm their privacy before relaxing into Yibo's capable hand, closing his eyes and resting his head against the back of the seat. Now, with their roles switched, Yibo tries to keep an eye out over the seats while stroking Xiao Zhan into pleasured oblivion. Yibo's arm movements are a little faster, a little more obvious in his eagerness, but Xiao Zhan has been desperate for his hand for too long now that he can't concentrate enough to care. He's not gonna last long anyway. Good thing too, because he's finding it harder and harder to stay quiet. He glances down through his eyelashes at the shape of Yibo's hand pumping his dick, wishes he could pull his shorts down and really see it, could show Yibo how red and aching he is for him beneath his long, pale fingers. When he risks a glance upward, Yibo is already looking at him, intense, his mouth parted again with shallow breaths like he could get off again just doing this. Yibo licks his lips like he’s ready to swallow him whole and Xiao Zhan’s heart thuds in his ears as white heat floods through his body into his groin. It'd be worth the risk to touch Yibo again, his fingers itch with the pull of it, but he keeps them locked under Yibo's opposite hand. The pleasure builds with Yibo's pumps to the point of being almost unbearable, his dick so rigid that he wants to yell in some form of release, and then his brain goes fuzzy with white static.

Another desperate squeeze to his thigh is all the warning Yibo gets before Xiao Zhan comes in a silent punch all over Yibo's hand and the inside of his own underwear. He loses that tightly-held control of his hips in the few final pumps of his release, gently fucking up into the slick slide of Yibo's hand, and then he settles bonelessly against his seat. Yibo pulls his hand out carefully, wiping it on the same towel from earlier and cleaning down his own shorts as subtly as he can. When Xiao Zhan finally shifts, rolling his head to look at Yibo again, Yibo looks up to meet his gaze. He stare is so fond and alight with their shared secret that it burns Xiao Zhan with another staggering rush of affection and longing for the kiss Yibo mentioned in their chat. He hopes Yibo will take the chance as soon as they’re finally alone, no matter where they are, because Xiao Zhan will absolutely let him. 

"You're definitely not human, Wang Yibo," Xiao Zhan says, low and quiet, with a shy smile. His heartbeat echoes in his ears.

"What the hell, you started it, Zhan-ge," Yibo murmurs equally as low, squeezing his hand and grinning brightly at him in return. Their legs stay tangled together in a comforting press. 

Xiao Zhan's lips curve upward and he shrugs one shoulder with a pleased, slow blink in non-apology. "Get some sleep," he suggests as Yibo stifles a yawn.

"Mn, I will if you do," Yibo responds, already closing his eyes. 

"Deal."


End file.
